


A Damn Romance Novel

by CarolPeletier



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolPeletier/pseuds/CarolPeletier
Summary: After the Whisperer War, Carol and Daryl's relationship is healing, and new adventures are on the horizon.  Daryl struggles with his feelings and how to express them.  All he knows is that he loves Carol, but he has no idea how to tell her.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters belong to the creators of the television series and graphic novels.

Chapter 1: What Do You Want?

She was easy to find, but she clearly wasn’t hiding her tracks. It was the third time she’d gone outside the walls of Alexandria this week, and each time she was gone before he woke up. 

He heard her, or at least the soft _ting-ting-ting_ of acorns hitting a tin can. He pressed his hand against his shirt pocket to feel the double-capper nestled safely there for luck. The leaves crackled under his boots, and she paused for a moment but didn’t turn. Maybe it was because most of the walkers in a twenty-mile radius had gone over that cliff nearly a month ago, and they hadn’t been as pressing of a concern lately. Or maybe it was because she knew the sound his boots made against the dead leaves and pebbled gravel.

“You following me?” she asked, tossing another acorn, hitting it dead center but failing to knock it over.

“If I was, I’d have been here before now,” he pointed out. “Gotta put your shoulder into it.” He moved around to join her where she sat on the log, and a little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t put her shoulder into it, and the acorn bounced off with a satisfying _ping._ “Thought this was our game.”

“I saved you some.” She glanced down at the second pile of acorns on the ground and then up at him. “I knew you’d come.” Daryl cleared his throat and grabbed an acorn. He tossed it, lamely missing the mark by a good two feet. “Aw, so close.”

“Shit,” Daryl snorted. He glanced at her when she took her shot. She seemed to make a habit of avoiding looking him in the eye these days. “You good?” She shrugged one shoulder and tossed the acorn. 

“A little better every day, I think.” Daryl nodded and shrugged off his pack. He opened it and pulled out a towel. Unwrapping it, he revealed two biscuits and a few pieces of cold bacon. 

“Lydia said you was gone before breakfast.” Carol stopped and looked down at the food. “Gotta eat.” She sighed softly and took one of the biscuits. He waited until she took a bite before taking one of the biscuits for himself. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“No, that wasn’t the problem. Too many dreams.” She swallowed hard and took another bite. Daryl tossed another acorn, and he thought back to the last time they’d done this. She’d been hiding something, and she’d been so focused on killing Alpha that she’d lied to him about why she’d really come out there. It was all over now. The war was over. Hilltop was rebuilding. Connie was back with her sister and staying at Alexandria until Hilltop was ready to move people back in. Things were going well, and since the day Connie had walked back through Alexandria’s gates, it had been as if a weight had lifted from Carol’s shoulders. Still, Daryl knew she still carried the weight of what happened, and he wished he could do something—anything—to carry some of that weight for her.

“Rider brought a note from the King last night. He said the Commonwealth thinks they can get all the cancer.”

“That’s good,” Carol said quietly.

“He’ll be comin’ home after.” He chewed the side of his thumb while Carol took another bite of biscuit. “Wanted you to know.”

“I’m happy for him,” Carol said softly, taking a deep breath and putting down half of the biscuit. “I saw Connie this morning. She’s good.”

“Yeah,” Daryl said quietly. “She’s been helpin’ teach the kids sign language at the school.”

“Yeah, she told me.” Carol smiled sadly. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with her. That’s good, Daryl. You took my advice.” Daryl narrowed his eyes at her.

“What advice?”

“You don’t have to spend the rest of your life hiding out with your dog. Remember?” Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “What?”

“It ain’t like that with me and her. Remember?” Carol smirked, but Daryl’s smile faded. “She’s a friend is all.”

“It could be.”

“No it couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I don’t…” He cleared his throat. His ears were burning. He worried his lip between his teeth, and his shoulders slumped. He grabbed an acorn and tossed it at the can. He hit his target, but it didn’t budge. “I ain’t gonna do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be with somebody I don’t love. Seems like a waste of time, and all it’s gonna do is end in hurt. Seems like a waste of time.” Carol looked away. 

“In the end of the world, you don’t have a lot of choices. Better than being alone, right?”

“Nah. Not for me.” He tossed another acorn, and the can went over. 

“I thought it’d be better. With Tobin? I pretended. With Ezekiel? I pretended until I didn’t have to anymore.” She sighed. “He loved me a lot more than I loved him.” She looked at him. “I guess I see your point.” Daryl nodded then, and he cleared his throat.

“You and the King? That’s over?”

“It’s been over for a long time.” She took a shaking breath. He’d have been lying if he said it wasn’t a relief to hear those words from her lips. It made him feel like an asshole. She was his best friend. She deserved to be happy after all the hell she’d been through. He felt like a hypocrite for being happy her marriage was over, but he’d known from the start they were never a good fit. Zeke was corny and a dreamer, but after Ed and all of the loss, Carol had found comfort in that. She’d made a family with him, and when that family was gone, there was nothing to hold the marriage together. 

Still, one thing weighed on his mind.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly. Carol looked at him, her eyes searching his. 

“What?” The word was barely a whisper.

“I asked you if you got what you wanted. You said no and that ya wouldn’t. I didn’t push ya, ‘cause I knew ya needed time, but what is it? What is it ya want, Carol?” Carol’s jaw trembled before her lips stretched into a sad smile.

“What I want…I want my son back. I want Sophia back. I want to go back and do things differently. I want…” She shook her head. “I have these dreams. They’re so vivid. They make me feel happy. And then I wake up, and it all fades away.”

“What kinda dreams?”

“Just…dreams. Sometimes Henry’s there. Sometimes Sophia. You’re always there.” She looked away. “The three people that mean the most to me.” She looked up at him again. “I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

“You don’t gotta…”

“Yeah. I do.” She sniffled. “I lied to you. I got people…people hurt. And Connie almost…”

“Hey. That ain’t on you.”

“Daryl.” She huffed out a shaking breath. “Through all of that, the one thing in the back of my mind was that I couldn’t lose you. And I came so close. And I never want that to happen again.”

“It won’t. M’right here.” And of course he was. And he would be. He’d been there since Sophia disappeared. He’d been there, the loyal best friend who’d been there for her for all those years. And she was sitting there with tears in her eyes, telling him about her dreams, and yet she was still hiding something. 

He'd almost lost her. He hadn’t been that terrified in so damn long, and even though things were better, losing her was still something right there in the back of his mind. It was a fear that kept him up at night. It made his gut churn and his heart ache. He had his best friend back, but she was still keeping something from him. And he hated that their friendship had been so strained. He cursed Alpha’s memory. Because of that woman, Carol almost lost herself, and he’d almost lost Carol. And he wondered if things would ever be the same.

The same. It was a bittersweet thought. He wanted more, and he had no idea how to tell her. Was he supposed to ask her? Was he supposed to blurt it out? Was he supposed to suffer in silence until the bitter end? Losing her wasn’t an option, but loving her like this didn’t feel right anymore either. He’d loved her for so long, and he couldn’t even pinpoint a moment that he knew for sure. He’d felt it for so long, since before Ezekiel. Before Alexandria. Maybe before the prison. And he hated the shit hand he’d been dealt when it came to dealing with his feelings. He’d been emotionally stunted since he was a kid, but he’d never been as close to anybody as he had to Carol. And since she’d walked back into those woods with Lydia that day and he’d pulled her into a tight hug, he’d known what he wanted to say. He just had to figure out how he was supposed to say it.

“I’m here, too,” she said quietly. 

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at her. She smiled sadly again, reaching forward to push the hair from his eyes. 

“Yeah.”

“Don’t gotta punch holes in no boats?”

“No. I think I lost my sea legs.” She smiled. “I’m on dry land now.”

“For good? You ain’t leavin’?”

“I’m not leaving.” Her smile grew wider. “Unless…”

“Unless?”

“All you have to do is say those words, and I’ll be ready.” Daryl sat up a little and swallowed the lump in his throat. Had she known all this time? Was he no good at hiding his feelings anymore? 

“Say the words?” he asked. 

“New Mexico,” she smiled. “I think…I think I’m ready.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Ready when you are.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Someday

“Something’s wrong.” Lydia brought the last dirty dish over to the sink and plopped it down in the soapy water. Daryl pushed the hair out of his eyes with a soapy hand and glanced at her. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. _Something._ ” Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. He certainly didn’t speak teenaged girl, so he figured he was going to have to ask her to elaborate. 

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re quiet.”

“M’always quiet.”

“Well, you’re _more_ quiet. So is Carol.”

“So?”

“I don’t like it. Makes me worry.” Daryl plopped a washed dish down into the rinse water, and Lydia pulled it out to run a towel over it. 

“You don’t gotta worry about nothin’ anymore, alright?” Daryl promised. “You’re safe here.”

“You say that, but something feels weird. Like you two are gonna disappear.”

“Hey,” Daryl said quietly. “Whatever happens, you got family here. You got a place here.” Lydia’s jaw trembled. 

“That wasn’t very reassuring.”

“Can’t promise m’always gonna be here. But I can promise that you ain’t never gonna have to wonder where you belong anymore. What we got in this house? We’re a family. Miles don’t change that.”

“Ok, now you’re really worrying me. Are you planning on leaving?”

“Don’t know,” Daryl said quietly. He wasn’t going to bullshit her. She deserved better than that. “Might someday.” Lydia sniffled and nodded, taking another wet plate and drying it off. 

“You never told me,” she said quietly. Daryl eyed her.

“Never told what?”

“Why you left before.” Daryl furrowed his brows. “That night at Hilltop. You said you’d tell me someday.” Daryl cleared his throat and let the water drain from the sink. He wrung out the dish rag and hung it over the faucet before turning and leaning against the counter. “You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Sometimes stayin’ hurts too much.” Lydia dried the last dish and slipped the towel over the handle of the stove.

“These people are your family. You do a lot of good for them. I don’t understand.” Daryl glanced over Lydia’s shoulder and then back at the girl’s face. 

“Sometimes things happen that ya don’t like, but ya don’t say anything, ‘cause maybe it’s a good thing for someone else. So instead of stayin’, ya choose to leave, to stay away until you’re needed. Sometimes stayin’ hurts _you_ too much.” Lydia furrowed her brows.

“Well if you don’t like something, you should say something.”

“Ain’t that easy sometimes.”

“Really?” Lydia looked around. “Seems to me we’re pretty lucky to live at the end of the world. Seems pretty silly to bite your tongue if all it’s gonna do is hurt you.” Daryl looked at her for a long moment. For a girl who’d hadn’t had much of a childhood, grew up with a crazy mother and ultimately broke ties with her in order to find a way for herself, she was pretty insightful on matters of the heart. Of course, he figured she had no idea what he was really talking about, and he’d been as vague as he possibly could, but still, she was right. They survived the apocalypse. He and Carol were the only two left from the group they fled Atlanta with. They’d been through so much, seen each other through so much pain and heartache, and through it all, the love he had for her and grown into something bigger than himself. 

He’d spent countless nights hurting and angry at himself when Carol had married Ezekiel. He’d never been one to easily express his feelings, but god if he didn’t want to. And what was holding him back? Fear of rejection? Fear of losing her? Fear of knowing the only woman he was ever going to love would never see him that way? At least if he kept his feelings to himself, he’d avoid that hurt. But then he’d always live in constant wonder of the what ifs. What if she loved him too?

“Daryl?” Daryl flinched. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in his head, letting his thoughts run wild, but when he focused on Lydia, her eyebrows shot up. “Why don’t you tell her?”

“What?”

“Tell Carol you love her.” Daryl’s protest caught in his throat, and he nearly choked on it. Either she was insightful, or she was a fucking mind reader. Lydia rolled her eyes when his face turned red. 

“Ya don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I’m pretty sure she loves you too.” Daryl ran his hand anxiously over the back of his neck. “Look, I know I’m young, but I know love when I see it. Maybe I didn’t have a good example of it growing up, but I did have Henry.” She offered a sad smile. “I know it’s not the same, _but_ I’ve seen how you guys look at each other when you think the other one isn’t watching. We _do_ live under the same roof.” 

Daryl’s face was an impossible shade of pink, and he ran his hand over the back of his neck. 

“S’gettin’ late.”

“Ugh, why do you do that?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Do what?”

“Change the subject. Why is it that adults always tell kids to use their words, but when the tables turn, the adults clam up and get quiet or change the subject? It’s so dumb.” Daryl huffed out an annoyed snort, and Lydia just shook her head.

“Well, whatever the reason is you and Carol are so quiet, I hope you talk to her soon. It’s driving me crazy.” She chewed her bottom lip for a moment before daring another question. “You’re ok, right? You guys, I mean.”

“Yeah, we’re good,” he promised. Lydia shrugged one shoulder and stuffed her hands in her pockets.

"Well, it might not hurt to act like it.” Daryl glanced at her. “I’m going to bed.”

“G’night,” Daryl said with a grunt, turning back to grab the wash cloth to wipe down the counters. Lydia sighed, shook her head and turned to leave the kitchen. She passed Carol on her way out, and Carol touched her shoulder in passing. Lydia glanced over her shoulder briefly before she turned out of sight.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” Carol said quietly. Daryl let out a low sound and a nod, ducking his head briefly before continuing to clean. “I can do that.”

“Nah, I got it. You cooked. It’s only fair.”

“Okay,” Carol said with a smile he couldn’t see with his back to her. “Well, good night.” She let out a soft breath and shifted her weight. He could hear her turn, and Lydia’s words rang in his head. 

“Hey,” he called out. Turning with the soapy rag in his hand. Carol turned, her brows raised in expectation. “Uh, you want some coffee?”

“It’s getting late,” Carol said quietly.

“You got anywhere to be tomorrow?” Daryl asked, fidgeting with a frayed thread on the cloth. Carol swallowed back an amused smile and shook her head.

“No. Do you?”

“Nah,” Daryl grunted. He tossed the wet cloth into the sink, and he cleared his throat. Carol worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before she relaxed, letting her shoulders fall a little with a slow breath. 

“Coffee sounds good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Library

She was up early again. He could hear the distinct sound of her boots against the hardwood floor. It wasn’t long before three more sets of shoes shuffled along overhead. Daryl could hear the distinct sound of RJ’s complaining about going to school while Judith attempted to assuage with promises that he could have half of her dessert after supper if he behaved himself. Not long after, the scrape and shuffle of lunch pails off the kitchen counter followed Lydia’s hurried urging for the kids to get a move on. Once they were gone, he could still hear her moving about upstairs.

He threw his blanket off, and it landed on Dog, who barely raised his sleepy head. 

“Ain’t you gotta go out?” Daryl asked. Dog made a noise that sounded like something between a snort and a yawn, and Daryl smirked. “I’ll leave the door open for ya then.” He leaned down to scratch him behind the ears before he threw on some clothes and tugged his boots on.

Carol was in the kitchen tucking her knife into her belt.

“Mornin’,” he said quietly. “Sleep ok?” She turned to him with a little smile, one he hadn’t seen in quite some time. 

“Not really. Too much coffee.”

“Thought you said you weren’t doin’ nothin’ today.”

“I had an idea,” she said with a little shrug. 

“What’s your idea?” he asked, grabbing his own pack off the hook by the back door. 

“RJ’s really struggling with sign language. The books we have at the school aren’t really geared toward the younger kids, so I thought maybe we could check out that library over on Front Street. Nabila said Jerry found some great books for kids there, so maybe we could find some for sign language. I know they exist. Sophia’s school did a two-week program on sign language when she was in third grade.” Daryl chewed the sign of his thumb and nodded.

“Sounds like a good idea. Want some company?” He slung his pack on his shoulder.

“If I said no, what would you say?” she asked with a gleam in her eye. Daryl swallowed hard, and Carol cocked her head to the side. “I’m kidding, Pookie. We work better together than we do alone.” Daryl’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t heard her call him that silly nickname in so long, and suddenly it didn’t make him feel like blushing anymore. Suddenly, he felt relieved. 

“We do,” he agreed. “Gimme ten minutes. I’ll borrow a couple horses, and I’ll meet ya at the gate.” Carol turned toward him then, a glimmer still in her eye. She bit back a smile, and Daryl felt his heart leap. “You have somethin’ else in mind?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

There was something about riding his motorcycle out in the open air. The cool breeze whipped at his skin, the rumble of the engine set his heart racing. Or, maybe it was Carol pressed up against him from behind, her fingers clutching his sides, warming his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He could smell the soap she washed with, and the warmth of her body against his was very distracting. 

He felt her sigh behind him and press in a little closer. This made twice in a matter of months she’d asked to ride on the bike with him, and while he wasn’t complaining, he was beginning to wonder why. All the time they’d spent together, she rarely rode with him aside from the night they’d left Hershel’s farm. Maybe it was the thrill of it all. Maybe it was because they weren’t currently speeding through a herd of walkers. 

Front street wasn’t but ten miles away, but it was a rarely ventured to area in the past. It had been teeming with walkers since the war with the Saviors and was far enough away not to be a concern. But since Alpha had rounded up nearly every walker in the area, the roads were more easily traveled now. 

When Daryl turned up Front street, there were only two walkers wandering up the street, and Daryl slowed the bike to a roll. He took out the walker on the right with his knife, while Carol took out the walker on the left with hers. Minutes later, they were pulling up in front of the boarded-up library.

“Looks secure,” Carol said quietly, throwing her leg over the side of the bike and getting up first. Still, she had her bow ready, and Daryl loaded a bolt into his crossbow. They slowly made their way up the steps and to the chained double doors. The lock was broken, but the chains, now rusted, had kept the doors secure.

Daryl quietly pulled the chain from the door handles and put it on the porch. He banged on the door a few times and glanced at Carol who was keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. 

“I used to work in a library about this size,” she said out of nowhere. Daryl looked at her. This was the first time she’d spoken about her life _before_ since they’d gone to Atlanta together looking for Beth. 

“You did?”

“Mmm. Before I married Ed. I liked it. It was quiet, and it paid decent.”

“Spent a lot of summers at libraries,” Daryl admitted. Carol raised an eyebrow. “That surprise you?”

“No,” she offered. “Not really. You liked the quiet, right?”

“Yeah. Whenever Merle got hauled off to juvie, I’d spend most’ve my days readin’ in the library ‘til they told me they was closin’ up. They didn’t much mind me bein’ there so long as I didn’t cause trouble. I think they somethin’ was goin’ on at my place. Ain’t picked up but one book since we left Hershel’s farm.” He knew she knew. She’d seen it fall out of his pack at the women’s shelter. He still had the damn thing, all torn and blood-stained underneath his couch. He didn’t pull it out much, but it was there, and just knowing it was there gave him a little peace. 

“Well, we’ve got room in our packs. If you find something you want, take it.” Daryl’s eyes darkened, and his face felt warm. There were a lot of things he wanted, but he had no idea how to go about taking what he wanted. And hell, if she only knew _what_ he wanted, would she want him to take it? To take her? To press her up against the wall and kiss her breathless until she was begging him to fuck her? Even then, would he even know what the hell to do with her? It’d been so damn long since he’d touched a woman, and he wasn’t even sure he’d been any good at it.

A shiver ran up his spine, and he swallowed hard. 

“I think we can go in now,” she announced, breaking him from his thoughts. She reached around him, and he could smell that sweet soap again. She smelled like cranberries, and he desperately wanted to know if she tasted that way, too.

The cracks of light that fell in through the gaps in the boards on the windows seemed to dance with the dust the fresh air pulled into the building. Daryl waved his hand in front of his face, and Carol sneezed once. 

“We lookin’ for the kiddie area?”

“Mmm, probably early childhood education,” Carol murmured. “I’m gonna browse back here a little.”

“A’right. Yell if ya need me. M’gonna go look around.”

“Ooh, if you see anything by Nancy Montclaire grab it for me.”

“Who the hell’s Nancy Montclaire?”

“She wrote the best erotica,” Carol said with a little half grin and a wink. Daryl nearly swallowed his tongue. 

“Ya mean porn without pictures?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Carol pointed out with a wink. Daryl felt his face flush again. His ears were on fire, and he felt his dick twitch in his pants. “Sometimes you don’t _need_ the pictures.” She batted her eyelashes at him, and if he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn she was _flirting_ with him. He coughed and cleared his throat. 

“A’right,” he muttered.

“I’m just teasing. I don’t need anything. I have plenty of books at home I haven’t even touched yet. I’ll meet you up front in, what, fifteen minutes?”

“Sounds good,” Daryl agreed. Carol smiled, and Daryl turned to take off and put a little distance between them. Once he got a little space and some air, his dick calmed down, and his heartrate returned to something resembling normal. He started looking at the books on the shelves. He found it hard to believe that each of those books were written by people who were probably dead now.

He managed to spot a couple of Nancy Montclaire books. One was called _The Cottage in the Woods_ and the cover was a shirtless man with unrealistic abs and a woman wearing nothing but a sheer dress and a lacy bra. Daryl snorted and flipped through the book, quickly spotting a passage in which sculpted ab dude tied the pretty girl in the see-through clothes to the bed and teased her with various sex toys. Daryl groaned and snapped the book shut, sending dust flying up into his nose. He sneezed again. How the hell did _that_ book cover and _that_ title go together with bondage and sex toys? 

He slipped it in his bag. He grabbed the other Nancy Montclaire book and tossed it in too. Next, he moved on down the aisle. Before he knew it, he was standing under the self-help section, and he was staring right at a shelf of books about dating and marriage. _Get the Woman of Your Dreams in 10 Easy Steps. How to Get a Girl in 10 Days. Dating for Dumbasses, a Ten Step Guide._

He almost laughed at the titles. Ten Days? Ten Steps? What a load of bullshit. He was absolutely amazed how many books there were by various men and women about how to land a perfect relationship, and considering the state the world was in, it all sounded pretty superficial. Still, he was curious. 

He picked up one book and flipped through it.

_Chapter One. Getting to Know Each Other. Chapter Three. The First Date. Chapter Eight: Compatibility._

He shook his head again. Did they have a book for desperate fifty-year-old men who’d been carrying a torch for their best friend for years but was too afraid to tell her because he’d never been in a relationship and had no idea how to be somebody’s boyfriend?

He looked through the books again. One stood out to him.

 _Romance for the Ages: A Guide to Starting Over After Forty._ He cleared his throat and picked up the small stack of books that lay there as if someone years ago had meant to check them out but got caught up in the end of the world instead. He flipped through the first four pages, and noticed in the table of contents that there was even a chapter on finding love with a longtime friend.

His heart skipped a beat. He felt ridiculous. No way did she want him like that, right? The book was pointless, he was sure. Still, he thought, maybe it might give him some insight into how to at least _tell_ her how he felt in a way that wouldn’t completely freak her out. He was sure if he carried the weight of that secret around much longer, he’d burst. 

“Jackpot!” Carol exclaimed out of the goddamn blue. Daryl turned quickly and dropped the stack of books, quickly shoving the top one into his pack before Carol could see it. She did, however, see the book under it before he did. “Oh, so you _did_ find something with pictures.”

“Huh?” Daryl looked down to see a copy of the _Kama Sutra_ opened up to a particularly graphic illustration. “Oh. Uh. No, I was just…”

“It’s ok. I’m not judging,” she grinned.

“Staph,” he muttered. “You, uh, got the books?”

“I got a bunch of them. I might start working with RJ tonight.”

“Yeah? Good,” Daryl choked out. “You ready?”

“Yeah. I think so.” She looked down at the book again and then up at him with a teasing smile. “Don’t forget your book, Daryl.” She winked at him, and that was enough to get his dick’s attention again. _Jesus Christ_. Carol turned then and started for the door. Daryl knelt down to grab his bag, pausing for a moment to eye the graphic illustration. He glanced up quickly to make sure she was out of sight, and he slipped that book into his pack, feeling equal parts dirty and intrigued. If anything, he figured, at least he might learn a thing or two.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: The Library

She was up early again. He could hear the distinct sound of her boots against the hardwood floor. It wasn’t long before three more sets of shoes shuffled along overhead. Daryl could hear the distinct sound of RJ’s complaining about going to school while Judith attempted to assuage with promises that he could have half of her dessert after supper if he behaved himself. Not long after, the scrape and shuffle of lunch pails off the kitchen counter followed Lydia’s hurried urging for the kids to get a move on. Once they were gone, he could still hear her moving about upstairs.

He threw his blanket off, and it landed on Dog, who barely raised his sleepy head. 

“Ain’t you gotta go out?” Daryl asked. Dog made a noise that sounded like something between a snort and a yawn, and Daryl smirked. “I’ll leave the door open for ya then.” He leaned down to scratch him behind the ears before he threw on some clothes and tugged his boots on.

Carol was in the kitchen tucking her knife into her belt.

“Mornin’,” he said quietly. “Sleep ok?” She turned to him with a little smile, one he hadn’t seen in quite some time. 

“Not really. Too much coffee.”

“Thought you said you weren’t doin’ nothin’ today.”

“I had an idea,” she said with a little shrug. 

“What’s your idea?” he asked, grabbing his own pack off the hook by the back door. 

“RJ’s really struggling with sign language. The books we have at the school aren’t really geared toward the younger kids, so I thought maybe we could check out that library over on Front Street. Nabila said Jerry found some great books for kids there, so maybe we could find some for sign language. I know they exist. Sophia’s school did a two-week program on sign language when she was in third grade.” Daryl chewed the sign of his thumb and nodded.

“Sounds like a good idea. Want some company?” He slung his pack on his shoulder.

“If I said no, what would you say?” she asked with a gleam in her eye. Daryl swallowed hard, and Carol cocked her head to the side. “I’m kidding, Pookie. We work better together than we do alone.” Daryl’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t heard her call him that silly nickname in so long, and suddenly it didn’t make him feel like blushing anymore. Suddenly, he felt relieved. 

“We do,” he agreed. “Gimme ten minutes. I’ll borrow a couple horses, and I’ll meet ya at the gate.” Carol turned toward him then, a glimmer still in her eye. She bit back a smile, and Daryl felt his heart leap. “You have somethin’ else in mind?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

There was something about riding his motorcycle out in the open air. The cool breeze whipped at his skin, the rumble of the engine set his heart racing. Or, maybe it was Carol pressed up against him from behind, her fingers clutching his sides, warming his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He could smell the soap she washed with, and the warmth of her body against his was very distracting. 

He felt her sigh behind him and press in a little closer. This made twice in a matter of months she’d asked to ride on the bike with him, and while he wasn’t complaining, he was beginning to wonder why. All the time they’d spent together, she rarely rode with him aside from the night they’d left Hershel’s farm. Maybe it was the thrill of it all. Maybe it was because they weren’t currently speeding through a herd of walkers. 

Front street wasn’t but ten miles away, but it was a rarely ventured to area in the past. It had been teeming with walkers since the war with the Saviors and was far enough away not to be a concern. But since Alpha had rounded up nearly every walker in the area, the roads were more easily traveled now. 

When Daryl turned up Front street, there were only two walkers wandering up the street, and Daryl slowed the bike to a roll. He took out the walker on the right with his knife, while Carol took out the walker on the left with hers. Minutes later, they were pulling up in front of the boarded-up library.

“Looks secure,” Carol said quietly, throwing her leg over the side of the bike and getting up first. Still, she had her bow ready, and Daryl loaded a bolt into his crossbow. They slowly made their way up the steps and to the chained double doors. The lock was broken, but the chains, now rusted, had kept the doors secure.

Daryl quietly pulled the chain from the door handles and put it on the porch. He banged on the door a few times and glanced at Carol who was keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. 

“I used to work in a library about this size,” she said out of nowhere. Daryl looked at her. This was the first time she’d spoken about her life _before_ since they’d gone to Atlanta together looking for Beth. 

“You did?”

“Mmm. Before I married Ed. I liked it. It was quiet, and it paid decent.”

“Spent a lot of summers at libraries,” Daryl admitted. Carol raised an eyebrow. “That surprise you?”

“No,” she offered. “Not really. You liked the quiet, right?”

“Yeah. Whenever Merle got hauled off to juvie, I’d spend most’ve my days readin’ in the library ‘til they told me they was closin’ up. They didn’t much mind me bein’ there so long as I didn’t cause trouble. I think they somethin’ was goin’ on at my place. Ain’t picked up but one book since we left Hershel’s farm.” He knew she knew. She’d seen it fall out of his pack at the women’s shelter. He still had the damn thing, all torn and blood-stained underneath his couch. He didn’t pull it out much, but it was there, and just knowing it was there gave him a little peace. 

“Well, we’ve got room in our packs. If you find something you want, take it.” Daryl’s eyes darkened, and his face felt warm. There were a lot of things he wanted, but he had no idea how to go about taking what he wanted. And hell, if she only knew _what_ he wanted, would she want him to take it? To take her? To press her up against the wall and kiss her breathless until she was begging him to fuck her? Even then, would he even know what the hell to do with her? It’d been so damn long since he’d touched a woman, and he wasn’t even sure he’d been any good at it.

A shiver ran up his spine, and he swallowed hard. 

“I think we can go in now,” she announced, breaking him from his thoughts. She reached around him, and he could smell that sweet soap again. She smelled like cranberries, and he desperately wanted to know if she tasted that way, too.

The cracks of light that fell in through the gaps in the boards on the windows seemed to dance with the dust the fresh air pulled into the building. Daryl waved his hand in front of his face, and Carol sneezed once. 

“We lookin’ for the kiddie area?”

“Mmm, probably early childhood education,” Carol murmured. “I’m gonna browse back here a little.”

“A’right. Yell if ya need me. M’gonna go look around.”

“Ooh, if you see anything by Nancy Montclaire grab it for me.”

“Who the hell’s Nancy Montclaire?”

“She wrote the best erotica,” Carol said with a little half grin and a wink. Daryl nearly swallowed his tongue. 

“Ya mean porn without pictures?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Carol pointed out with a wink. Daryl felt his face flush again. His ears were on fire, and he felt his dick twitch in his pants. “Sometimes you don’t _need_ the pictures.” She batted her eyelashes at him, and if he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn she was _flirting_ with him. He coughed and cleared his throat. 

“A’right,” he muttered.

“I’m just teasing. I don’t need anything. I have plenty of books at home I haven’t even touched yet. I’ll meet you up front in, what, fifteen minutes?”

“Sounds good,” Daryl agreed. Carol smiled, and Daryl turned to take off and put a little distance between them. Once he got a little space and some air, his dick calmed down, and his heartrate returned to something resembling normal. He started looking at the books on the shelves. He found it hard to believe that each of those books were written by people who were probably dead now.

He managed to spot a couple of Nancy Montclaire books. One was called _The Cottage in the Woods_ and the cover was a shirtless man with unrealistic abs and a woman wearing nothing but a sheer dress and a lacy bra. Daryl snorted and flipped through the book, quickly spotting a passage in which sculpted ab dude tied the pretty girl in the see-through clothes to the bed and teased her with various sex toys. Daryl groaned and snapped the book shut, sending dust flying up into his nose. He sneezed again. How the hell did _that_ book cover and _that_ title go together with bondage and sex toys? 

He slipped it in his bag. He grabbed the other Nancy Montclaire book and tossed it in too. Next, he moved on down the aisle. Before he knew it, he was standing under the self-help section, and he was staring right at a shelf of books about dating and marriage. _Get the Woman of Your Dreams in 10 Easy Steps. How to Get a Girl in 10 Days. Dating for Dumbasses, a Ten Step Guide._

He almost laughed at the titles. Ten Days? Ten Steps? What a load of bullshit. He was absolutely amazed how many books there were by various men and women about how to land a perfect relationship, and considering the state the world was in, it all sounded pretty superficial. Still, he was curious. 

He picked up one book and flipped through it.

_Chapter One. Getting to Know Each Other. Chapter Three. The First Date. Chapter Eight: Compatibility._

He shook his head again. Did they have a book for desperate fifty-year-old men who’d been carrying a torch for their best friend for years but was too afraid to tell her because he’d never been in a relationship and had no idea how to be somebody’s boyfriend?

He looked through the books again. One stood out to him.

 _Romance for the Ages: A Guide to Starting Over After Forty._ He cleared his throat and picked up the small stack of books that lay there as if someone years ago had meant to check them out but got caught up in the end of the world instead. He flipped through the first four pages, and noticed in the table of contents that there was even a chapter on finding love with a longtime friend.

His heart skipped a beat. He felt ridiculous. No way did she want him like that, right? The book was pointless, he was sure. Still, he thought, maybe it might give him some insight into how to at least _tell_ her how he felt in a way that wouldn’t completely freak her out. He was sure if he carried the weight of that secret around much longer, he’d burst. 

“Jackpot!” Carol exclaimed out of the goddamn blue. Daryl turned quickly and dropped the stack of books, quickly shoving the top one into his pack before Carol could see it. She did, however, see the book under it before he did. “Oh, so you _did_ find something with pictures.”

“Huh?” Daryl looked down to see a copy of the _Kama Sutra_ opened up to a particularly graphic illustration. “Oh. Uh. No, I was just…”

“It’s ok. I’m not judging,” she grinned.

“Staph,” he muttered. “You, uh, got the books?”

“I got a bunch of them. I might start working with RJ tonight.”

“Yeah? Good,” Daryl choked out. “You ready?”

“Yeah. I think so.” She looked down at the book again and then up at him with a teasing smile. “Don’t forget your book, Daryl.” She winked at him, and that was enough to get his dick’s attention again. _Jesus Christ_. Carol turned then and started for the door. Daryl knelt down to grab his bag, pausing for a moment to eye the graphic illustration. He glanced up quickly to make sure she was out of sight, and he slipped that book into his pack, feeling equal parts dirty and intrigued. If anything, he figured, at least he might learn a thing or two.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Reading Comprehension

_Is the object of your affection a close friend? Perhaps you’ve been friends for years, maybe even harbored feelings, but neither of you has made a move? Chances are, if you’ve been good friends for years, having an honest discussion of feelings, even if they aren’t reciprocated, will only strengthen your bond._

Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted as a headache sprouted somewhere in the middle of his head.

_Shoulda just picked up Dating for Dumbasses._

He flipped through the pages as he sat on Aaron’s porch overseeing a playdate between Hershel and RJ. Maggie had gone out to Hilltop to check on progress, and Daryl had dumbly admitted he didn’t have plans for the day. The kids were quiet, however, each kid working on school work. Hershel sat with the tip of his pencil pressed against the corner of his mouth, so engrossed in his studies. The look of pure concentration as he figured the problems in his head reminded Daryl so much of Glenn. RJ peeked over at Hershel’s paper, and Daryl snorted. 

“Eyes on your own work, Junior.” RJ ducked his head sheepishly, while Hershel covered his own work with his hand.

He sat with his back against the railing on the steps, and he was so engrossed in the book that he didn’t hear soft footsteps in the grass. It wasn’t until he felt a hand gently tap him on the shoulder that he realized someone was behind him, and his attempts to cover the book he was reading were futile. Connie stared at the book in his lap for a moment before looking up at his red face and offering a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” she signed. “I see you’re doing your homework, too.” Daryl stared at her for a minute, watching the little grin spread across her face until her shoulders were shaking with a soft giggle. 

“Found it at the library. Must’ve tossed it in with some of the other books on accident.”

“Accident. Oh, ok.” She crinkled her nose, and Daryl’s face blushed darker. Sarcasm was a little harder to read in sign language, but he knew she was being a smartass from the look on her face. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s not like it’s a secret. Everybody knows.”

“No, you don’t understand.”

“Okay, everybody knows you love Carol but Carol,” Connie pointed out. “You don’t need a book to tell you how to talk to her. Just be yourself.” Daryl scoffed at that and stuffed the book in his pack. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. She’s happiest when she’s with you.” Daryl watched her hands carefully, each word coming to him slowly, but he got the point and shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Act like you don’t matter. Your feelings matter. If I know Carol as well as I think I do, I’m willing to bet your feelings matter more than most to her.” She raised her eyebrows. “You two have known each other longer than most people here. If anybody knows what she’s been through, it’s you. And she knows you better than anybody, right?” Daryl nodded his head. “So what are you so afraid of?” Daryl thought hard for a moment, wondering how to sign _fucking everything up_. Instead, he just offered a little half smile and shrugged a shoulder. 

“Not being good enough.”

“Stop,” Connie signed, her brows creasing sternly. Then her features softened, and a sad smile pulled at her lips. “Did you ever think that maybe she’s worried about the same thing? Talk to her, Daryl. What could it hurt?” She leaned forward and tapped his shoulder sympathetically. “Aren’t there already too many things in this world to be afraid of? Come on. It’s Carol. Just…talk to her.” She shrugged one shoulder and offered him a little smile. “I’m right.” Daryl watched as she walked away, and he wondered how the hell _she_ could be so confident about something that kept him awake at night.

On the one hand, she was right. It was Carol. On the other hand, it was _Carol_. Carol was the one person in this life that he’d felt a connection stronger than obligation. He _needed_ to be there. He _wanted_ to be there. She was it for him, and the scariest thing in the world wasn’t those walkers and the people left outside the walls that this world had warped into something less than human. It was opening his heart and laying it all out on the table for her only to find that she didn’t want feel that, too. Because, why would she? He was quiet, he didn’t talk much, and when he did he usually had a smart mouth. He hadn’t been the cleanest guy around Alexandria, either, though he’d made more of an effort in the past years than he had when they’d first arrived. Still, none of that ever seemed to bother her, except maybe that one time when she’d told him she’d hose him down in his sleep. Come to think of it, he _had_ been a little ripe.

But she’d never shown an interest him. She’d teased him, and he’d told her to stop, but that had just been their thing. Hadn’t it? She hadn’t been serious. Had she? 

Daryl tugged the book back out and flipped through the pages again. The more he skimmed, the more he felt like a goddamn fool. He’d always been a shitty student. What the hell was he going to learn now?

“Uncle Daryl?” Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin when RJ spoke right into his ear. The kid was no longer working on his homework. Instead, he was standing right there next to him with a wilting flower from the flower pot on the porch. “Ladies like flowers. Give this to Aunt Carol.” Daryl narrowed his eyes at the boy. “You love Aunt Carol? That’s what you and Miss Connie talked about.”

“Thought you weren’t doin’ so good in sign language,” Daryl grunted. He wasn’t sure what he was more impressed by: RJ deciphering the conversation or sneaking away from his work to pick a flower and scare the shit out of his Uncle Daryl.

“I know some stuff,” RJ insisted. “I know how to say love. And Carol. And you do, don’t ya?” Daryl cleared his throat, and Hershel popped his head up from his homework..

“I heard Mommy tell Aaron if somebody doesn’t make a move soon, they’re gonna lock you and Carol in the jail. What’s that mean?” Hershel asked pointedly, chewing on the end of his pencil. Daryl’s face reddened, and he shifted in his spot on the porch. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

“Means get back to work. That’s what it means.”


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5: Enchantment

Carol was at the table with a book in her hands when Daryl came home with RJ that night. Daryl could hear the girls moving around upstairs. RJ immediately headed over to the coffee table where several of his toys were spread out on the glass. 

Carol looked up when Daryl stepped into the kitchen, and she greeted him with a knowing smile.

“How was the playdate?” she asked, her gaze tracking him as he crossed the room and plopped down in the seat across from hers. Daryl huffed out an exhausted breath, and Carol chuckled when his hair fell into his eyes.

“Kids got too much energy.”

“Hmm. I remember well,” she said with equal parts sadness and nostalgia in her voice. Daryl sensed the slight change in her demeanor, and he cleared his throat.

“Whatcha readin’?”

“Oh, this? I found it at the library the other day.” She offered a little smile and closed it before turning the cover toward Daryl. 

_New Mexico: Exploring the Land of Enchantment._

Daryl sat up a little in his seat. 

“It’s got pictures?”

“Oh, it’s got everything. New Mexico is so beautiful, Daryl. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. But you know that.” Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, you’ve been there before, right?”

“Nah. Never been.”

“Then what made you say New Mexico that day?” she asked, drumming her fingertips on the table. Daryl swallowed hard.

“Dunno. It’s far away. Ain’t here.” Carol cocked her head to the side a little. “M’guessin’ California got overrun early, what with all the people out there. Lots of tourist spots from the coast all the way to Vegas, m’guessin’. So Nevada’s out. I figured New Mexico was close enough to the middle of damn nowhere. Just a place to get away. A place where there ain’t so many damn memories every where ya turn around.” 

“That’s not where the memories are,” she said sadly.

“Yeah, but it’s a change of scenery. It’s a place to start over.” Carol snapped her gaze up to meet his again. He couldn’t quite read her. It was as if she was trying to read _him_. It was as if she was waiting for him to give the word. 

“You sound like it’d be forever,” she said after a moment.

“What’s forever? Forever might be tomorrow,” Daryl pointed out. “We don’t know what time we got left.” He chewed the side of his thumb. “’Course if you didn’t wanna go, I wouldn’t go. Ain’t leavin’ this place without you.”

“Our family’s here.”

“Our family,” Daryl said quietly. “Yeah. But family is family no matter how many miles is between ‘em.” He felt the back of his neck grow hot when Carol’s eyes narrowed and practically burned a hole in his head. 

“And we’re family, too?” Her voice was soft with a hint of sadness. Daryl shifted in his seat then, and Carol anxiously ran her fingers down the spine of the book in her hands. Daryl chewed the inside of his bottom lip for a moment. He wondered if she saw the gentle shake of his head. If she did, she didn’t let on. Because she wasn’t family. She was something else. She was his safe place. His happiness. When she wasn’t there, she was on his mind, in his blood, in his heart. How could he make her see that?

“You know me better’n anybody.”

“And you know me better than anybody,” Carol said with a little nod. She glanced down at the twine bracelet on her wrist. Daryl’s gaze followed hers. He’d called her his best friend the day he’d given her that. And it was true. He cared about her above everyone else. He loved his family and wanted nothing but good for them, but the only person in the world he couldn’t live without was sitting right across from him. And he couldn’t even put together the words to tell her how damn much he cared.

“You look so damn sad sometimes.” Carol looked up sharply at his words.

“What?”

“Sometimes we’re havin’ supper with the kids, and Judith laughs. And you’ll kind of tune out like you’re thinkin’ of somethin’. Thinkin’ of someone.”

“You noticed?”

“I’m observant,” Daryl said with a little smirk, echoing back to those early days back in Atlanta. Carol’s shoulders slumped a little, and she nodded her head. “You ain’t happy here.”

“I am.”

“You’re lyin’.”

“Daryl.”

“I know when you’re pretendin’. Saw it when we first got to this place. Saw it again at The Kingdom. Couldn’t stand to watch ya pretend, ‘specially when you was with _him_.” He hadn’t that last word to have such a sharp bite to it, but it was out, and Carol sat up a little in her seat. 

“They need us here.”

“Bullshit.”

“They do. They need _you_.”

“For what? Huntin’? Scoutin’?” He shook his head. “They’re doin’ just fine on their own. They got more’n enough food to last two winters if they had to. And what’re you doin’? Supply runs every couple days? Helpin’ out at the school when they need ya? You’re findin’ ways to keep busy. But every time I see ya starin’ off into space, I keep thinkin’ maybe you’re thinkin’ about goin’ out on a boat again.”

“I told you I’m not doing that anymore,” Carol insisted.

“But you’re thinkin’ of bein’ somewhere else. Somewhere that ain’t here.” He watched tears prick her eyes, and when her lower lip trembled, she worried it between her teeth. “I’m right. I know m’right. Why else are you readin’ that book?”

“It’s just a book,” she sniffled. She pushed it aside. “You really wanna do this? Just leave everything behind?”

“We can always come back. We got somethin’ good here. Lots of folks out there ain’t as lucky. Maybe we can find some folks, help ‘em out.”

“Or get ourselves into more trouble,” Carol pointed.

“There’s always that. But we always land on our feet, don’t we?”

“Bandaged and bruised, but on our feet, for the most part,” Carol chuckled. She wiped at her eyes. She took a deep breath, and just then, RJ came walking into the kitchen.

“Uncle Daryl, did you give Aunt Carol the flower?” 

“Uh,” Daryl stammered. “You know, I don’t think I brought…”

“It’s in your pack. I saw you stick it in there before we left Maggie’s.” RJ looked at him with wide eyes and pointed to Daryl’s face. Daryl’s face turned several shades of red, and he couldn’t look Carol in the eye. When Daryl didn’t move fast enough, RJ went over and opened the pack himself, pulling out the wilted, almost crumpled flower. Daryl grimaced at the sight of it when the boy placed it in his palm. 

He glanced up at Carol then, seeing the smile tugging at her lips. 

“Uh, we, um, thought this might cheer ya up,” he said quietly, placing the flower in Carol’s outstretched hand.

“That’s not why. It’s cause Uncle Daryl lo—”

“Hey, buddy!” Daryl stood up so fast the chair he’d been sitting in fell over. Carol’s eyes went wide in surprise. “You about ready for your bath?” 

“No!” RJ whined, now solely focused on protesting his least favorite nighttime activity besides actually shutting his eyes and trying to sleep. “I had a bath _yesterday_.”

“And I _bet_ you didn’t wash behind your ears,” Carol teased. RJ made a face, and Daryl crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Do you want Uncle Daryl or Aunt Carol to help you?” Carol asked, standing up and coming around the table to stand next to Daryl.

“Ummm, Uncle Daryl,” RJ decided. “But will you read my bedtime story tonight, Aunt Carol?”

“If you wash good and eat at least half of your supper with no whining,” Carol promised. RJ’s eyes lit up.

“Deal!” the boy exclaimed, hurrying off and heading up the stairs. Carol shook her head with a laugh, and Daryl smirked, thankful that his distraction had succeeded. Only, he felt her hand on his arm, and then he felt her breath against his cheek. She placed a soft kiss there before pulling back.

“Thanks for the flower,” she said sweetly. Daryl turned his head slowly, eyeing her, breathing in the scent of soap that clung to her skin. He swallowed hard and licked his lips, and for a second, he thought he saw her shiver. She dragged her gaze down away from his and took a step back. “I should check on dinner.” She met his gaze again before she turned and headed for the stove. “I made your favorite. Lasagna.”


End file.
